


Does This Hurt?

by SyntheticEuphoria



Category: Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Gift Fic, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 18:59:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyntheticEuphoria/pseuds/SyntheticEuphoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when a pacifistic medic and a tyrannical warlord from another dimension get stuck in a hole in the ground?</p>
<p>A one-shot drabble for my DraginFli. <3<br/>Warning for Heavily-implied NonCon. (No actual sex.)</p>
<p>Translated to Russian here: http://tata-red.diary.ru/p192710605.htm</p>
            </blockquote>





	Does This Hurt?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xenotechnophile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenotechnophile/gifts).



“Does this hurt?”

“…No.”

“I’m glad. But would you mind not moving, then? It’s hard to make the weld even, when you keep shifting.”

“Hmph.”

“You’re tensing. Are you sure this doesn’t hurt? I can turn off your tactile receptors, if you want.”

“ _No._ ”

“If you’re sure…”

“Stop pestering me about it, and just _fix_ me!”

“O-of course…” First Aid worked in silence for the next several minutes, but at that point, he had to pause.

“Why did you stop? You’re _obviously_ not finished!”

“I-it’s just… You keep…”

A low growl rumbled up from his patient’s chest cavity. “I keep _what?_ ”

First Aid was staring at the hard, rocky ground beneath him, his hands rubbing against each other nervously. “You keep _staring_ at me with that… that _look_ …”

The rumbling changed for one of amusement. “Does my watching bother you? It is not like I have much else to do, but watch.”

“Well, yes, but… But you’re not watching the process. You’re watching _me_.”

“What’s the difference?”

The young medic was trembling faintly – it’s why he’d had to stop, or risk mucking up the repairs. “Watching what I’m doing doesn’t bother me – it’s common for conscious patients to watch what’s happening to them; it can be… interesting to see one’s own components being put back together and made to function again. But y-… you’re watching _me_ , not the repairs. And I don’t… I don’t understand _why_. And it’s making me, well… self-conscious. Please stop?”

The amused rumbling became an outright laugh. It made the medic tremble harder, which in turn only seemed to please the much larger mech even more. “Alright, little _Autobot_ ,” and he was uncommonly happy about calling him that, “I will refrain from staring for the remainder of the procedure.”

“Th-thank you.” First Aid took a deep intake, exhaled slowly, and returned to work, hands steady again. Several more minutes passed in silence, and the repairs were coming along nicely.

“It is lucky, I suppose, that it is you who was trapped in here with me.”

First Aid nodded and tried to keep his hands steady. That voice was so… so _wrong_ to hear like this.

“You do not know how it happened?”

“N-no. There was… a large flash. I think something exploded, but it wasn’t quite… There was no shrapnel, or heat – just the concussion of the blast. I was sent flying backwards. And then I was down here with…”

“With me.”

First Aid nodded, a bit jerkily, but still pleased that the other mech was staring off to one side – he’d kept his promise not to watch him anymore. “With you.”

“Yes, very lucky, indeed.”

“Do… do _you_ have any idea what happened?”

“Mmm? No, none at all. I didn’t even get the flash. I was in a battle, and then there was nothing. And then I was down here with you, bleeding all over myself.” He chuckled darkly in amusement. “So kind of you to take pity on a stranger.”

“But you’re not…” He broke off, because what he’d been about to say wasn’t really true, and he knew it.

“Of course I am.”

“You’re… You’re Optimus Prime.”

“Yes. And I’ve known First Aid for a very long time, but we’ve never met.”

The trembling was back, and he couldn’t stop it. “But how did…”

“I’ve met your Cliffjumper, I think. Can’t say I much liked him. I like you, though. You should come join _my_ Autobots. I think First Aid would like you, First Aid.”

“Cliffjumper?” Blue optics went wide behind his visor. “You know where Cliffjumper is?”

“Mm,” Optimus nodded, “Annoying little scrap of a traitor. Tried to tell _me_ what to do. I think I’d like to use that glass gas of his on the housing around his ember…” He drifted off with a dreamy look in his red optics, apparently fantasizing, but thankfully not vocalizing the rest.

“Y-you can’t…”

The ruby gaze locked abruptly back onto First Aid’s face. “Are you going to tell me what to do, too?” His tone threatened the kinds of things seen in nightmares.

“I… Please? Please don’t hurt him?”

This seemed to mollify the black and purple mech, as he relaxed again. “I will consider your petition for mercy.”

First Aid got the feeling that his “petition” would be thoroughly ignored, and silently sent a prayer to Primus on his teammate’s behalf.

“Why have you stopped?”

Startled, the medic floundered for a moment, and then resumed working. “I-I’m sorry. I was… distracted.”

More pleased rumbling. “Oh? _Distracting_ , am I?”

First Aid suppressed a shiver.

“Please, elaborate.”

“Y-you… You sound like my leader. Look like my leader… E-except for the, er, the coloring… But the things you say are… They are not what my leader would say. And you move… you move differently, too. Your mannerisms are not the same.”

Optimus laughed again, optics bright. “Little medic, I have barely moved a limb since awakening. How could you have noticed a difference in _mannerisms?_ ”

“I-it’s just… You do move your head as you speak. And there’s a shift to your shoulders… And it’s… It’s not how my Optimus would move if he were in your position.”

“Mmm, so you’re an observant type? You sound like you know your leader quite… intimately.”

First Aid had to pause his work again – the mech was _leering_ at him. “N-no! I just… I just… It’s like you said – I’m observant.”

“Mhmm! So you watch him, but do not touch?”

The medic felt himself heating up out of embarrassment. “That’s not what I…”

“It’s not? You seem to care for your Optimus quite a bit – you sound quite _familiar_ with him, yet you claim to not be involved. Do you see yourself as unworthy of his attentions? You do not wish to bother him with the trivialities of your own desires? Would you love nothing more than to worship his frame with those talented hands of yours, but cannot bring yourself to rise above your rank and station, to touch what does not belong to you?”

First Aid flushed brightly behind his mask. That was most certainly NOT how he felt about Optimus, thank you very much!

But then, the… the idea of it did not sound… _entirely_ unappealing. He did care about his leader a great deal. It was just that… he did not normally think about other mechs in that way. It wasn’t in his nature to… to _lust_ after someone like that. And he...

Oh, Primus. The Optimus in front of him had heat rolling off of his frame in _waves_. That leer was back, and he…

“I am not him. But I look like him. Sound like him. Would you like to find out what it would feel like, to touch, to feel, to _know?_ You may never get another chance.”

“I… But I…” First Aid should have been paying closer attention to what he’d been doing – the repairs were nearly done, and he’d gotten so distracted that he hadn’t thought about what that meant. When the mech was suddenly pinning him down by the upper arms and looming hugely above him in the dim light of the small lantern he’d set up, he froze up out of shock.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Optimus purred, reaching with one hand for the smaller Autobot’s facemask.

“N-no! Please, I-”

“Such a shy little thing; I only want to _look_.”

“Liar.” First Aid was surprised at his own exclamation.

So was the Prime, if the bemused expression in his optics was any indication. “Is that what I am?”

There was a pause, and then he nodded, sharply. “Yes. Now, get off of me.”

The face above him turned aggressive. “There you go, trying to tell me what to do again.”

“And you don’t like it.” First Aid was getting angry, now. He wasn’t used to the emotion, but it made him feel more confident – less like a helpless victim.

“To say the least; I _take_ what I want. And what I want right now is-”

“Me? Why? Because I helped you? I doubt it. Because you think I’m secretly in love with a different version of you? I care for him, but not like that. And even if I did, he’s _not_ you. No matter how much you physically resemble him, you are not _him_ , and I don’t want you.

“What about the fact that I’m smaller? Or a medic? Is it one of those? Do you have some kind of fetish? Because I’m not impressed, and I’m _not_ into it. If you continue, this will be nothing more or less than rape. But maybe _that’s_ what gets you off, huh? You like the idea of bending me to your will? You’re a sparkling that happens to inhabit a big, strong body. And you want to prove to yourself how great you are by picking on anyone who’s smaller.”

First Aid’s cooling systems were running at full tilt by the end of his rant, he had worked himself up into such a righteous frenzy. His chest heaved up and down, pulling in cold air.

Optimus tilted his head to one side, optics narrowed. “You’re quite attractive when angered. But insulting me? Oh, so unwise.”


End file.
